Danger Days

12

It had been nearly two weeks now since the worst night of their lives. Frank had become used to the sounds of Mikey crying and whimpering through the days, and regularly throughout the nights. Frank himself had been too numb to cry often. It was as if his body was refusing to process what had happened.

Frank lay in his cot, facing the wall. He could hear Mikey's jagged breathing behind him. Frank sighed and lifted his arm. There were scabs covering his skin. Ricky had helped him remove most of the glass from his injuries, as well as bandage up their gunshot wounds, on the way back to their house. However, Frank wasn't sure that all of it had made it out.

The sound of Mikey's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Frank? Are-Are you awake?"

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you for something?"

"Yeah."

"Would you, um... Could you come down here with me?"

Frank rolled over and looked at Mikey. Mikey was trembling, curled up and facing the wall. "What?" Frank asked.

"I just... I've never felt more alone than I do right now," Mikey whispered, voice cracking. "I just want someone to hold. And both the people who used to hold me... Well, they're fucking dead now. So can you please come down here with me?"

Frank blinked back tears. "Okay," he said after a moment. He got up from his cot and shuffled over to Mikey's mattress. He laid down beside the younger Way, getting underneath the thin blanket with him.

Mikey clasped Frank's hand in both of his. "Thank you," he whispered. Frank sighed and closed his eyes. He laid there still, feeling his hands trembling in Mikey's cold fingers. Gerard's face flashed in his mind, and his stomach sank into itself. He exhaled, squeezing his eyelids together as he failed to hold in his tears.

The pair were interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. Frank gasped and forced himself to roll over. "What?" he called.

The door opened, and Ricky's face appeared in the crack. "Hey," he said. "Um... Y'know, Opal could really use your company."

Frank squinted. "What?" Mikey said. "W-Why the fuck would she want that? We're useless right now, in case you hadn't noticed."

Ricky sighed. "I know," he said gently. "I... I'm so sorry. But you two were there. Frank, you were the one who got her out of there alive. Come out? Please?"

Frank craned his neck to look at Mikey. Mikey raised his eyebrows in an indifferent expression before rolling away. Frank sighed and began to get to his feet. He stretched, feeling almost every joint in his body pop. He reached out a hand, pulling Mikey up.

Ricky returned to the living room, Frank and Mikey trudging after him. As soon as Frank entered the room, he could feel the pieces of the room that were missing. His heart sunk. Mikey's eyes immediately welled. "Oh, God..." he breathed. He lifted a hand to his mouth. "I'm so sorry, Opal, I-I'll..." He wasn't able to finish his thought before he rushed into the bathroom.

Frank sighed and sat down on the couch. It was quiet, with Steve playing a song on his radio at low volume being the only sound.

And no one could ever fill the hole you left... Oh, darling, won't you please come back?... My soul, scorches earth without you... I can't walk this-

"Okay, can we change this?" Frank asked, gripping the arms of the sofa.

Steve let out a lengthy sigh, then sat up and slowly spun his chair around. "We all mourn differently," he muttered. "But sure. We can change it."

Frank clenched his jaw, but held his tongue as Steve stopped the song. "Apologies from the zones, tumbleweeds," he said as he clicked his microphone on. "Jet Star and Party Poison will be dearly missed, but their shadows live on. Here for a change of tune is Fun Ghoul, so we will abide by the Killjoy philosophy of respect." Steve turned off his mic and flipped a switch. A few moments later, a more mellow tune began seeping through the speakers.